


Rain

by philokrates



Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: F/M, I will update tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 21:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15082271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philokrates/pseuds/philokrates
Summary: That stormy night, she thought she would die.Turns out, she makes the most unlikely friend she ever thought she would have.Or, in which all the foreshadowing actually had a point.





	Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I know most people have realized this by now and that there's more than one story depicting this, however I couldn't help but write my own! I want to have this as a multichapter story and it likely will be, but I update very, VERY irregularly, so don't count on me. ;P
> 
> It was disappointing that all the foreshadowing about the Indoraptor led to nothing in the end, so I'll take out my disappointment with this. This was also loosely inspired by 'It's Not the Raptor DNA' on FanFiction; seriously, go check it out, it's fantastic, even though it has been on hiatus for a while.
> 
> English is not my first language, and even though I've got quite the hang of it, I'm still prone to making mistakes, so please point them out if you find any! :')

It’s inside it’s inside it’s inside it’sinsideit’sinside _insideinside_.

She’s shivering and she knows she’s shivering more than if she had been left out in the middle of a raging blizzard to fend for herself. She’s holding her eyes closed so tightly it hurts, her hands grip the blankets with such panicked strength that her knuckles have gone completely white and they hurt too but she simply can’t afford to care.

Oh how she wishes none of this was real, that she really was just in bed and the creature that was eradicating any living being it came across was nothing but a figment of her imagination.

There are so many thoughts storming through her mind like it’s a racetrack that she’s already feeling the echoes of an unhelpful headache. The sound of those nightmarish sickle claws tapping the floor like an impatient beast waiting for its dinner, the quiet yet menacing rumbles coming from the creature’s throat rev her fear until she just feels sick, and it’s not only her knuckles that have blanched.

Terror has rendered her body numb and her frantic heartbeat is the only thing she feels; her heart is beating so fast, so strongly, almost threatening to pound right out of her chest, and it’s a bizarre feeling.

The creature keeps approaching, quietly vocalizing.

It’s slowly climbing onto the bed, shifting just enough weight for those claws to sink through the blankets, and she no longer knows if her entire body trembling like a sprinkler is because of the sickening fear trying to take over her mind until it drives her insane or because of the freezing, surreal chills she’s getting.

Claws longer than her fingers inch toward her, a jaw full of crooked teeth sharper than any knife partly open to expose them all in a nightmarish display nobody is there to see. She doesn’t dare open her eyes, but her racing mind can’t help but picture it all, and it’s not long before she feels the creature’s slow exhales blow past her and she knows those countless teeth are right in front of her and a gaping maw is the last thing she would see if she opens them.

Its nostrils flare, catching the unmistakable scent of fear. The horrid smell of blood fills her own, and she would have tried to fully cover herself had she not been paralyzed by fear.

The Indoraptor continues to sniff, loudly, getting a little closer before it brings itself to close its ominous maw. Stifled hisses bubble in its throat as it slightly tilts its head to the side with one quick motion accompanied by a blink. Its middle claw hooks a few strands of golden hair and it lightly pulls closer, and curiosity is almost indubitable as it simply looks at the strange things it’s loosely holding that look like its own quills.

It retracts its hand with a harsh exhale that sends the strands storming onto Maisie’s face, and the sudden burst of hot air makes her nearly jump out of her skin. Her quick, startled motion causes the Indoraptor to pull its head away in what seems like genuine surprise, tilting it to the other side and slightly straightening itself, looking at the cowering child for a few seconds before leaning in again.

It’s then when the nightmare-inducing sounds it was producing change, but it takes Maisie longer than that to realize such a small detail that she certainly thought had nothing to do with her life being miraculously saved. It has struck to her, however, that the thing hasn’t gone for the kill yet, despite having made it clear that it would stop at nothing until its teeth and claws got hold of the flesh it would tear apart.  

The noise it’s now producing sounds like a purr. Low, deep, reminiscent of a motor, and it’s almost calm. Maisie sinks into herself when hard scales press against her cheekbone and she can’t hold back a terrified, though mostly muffled whimper. She can feel the crooked teeth scrape against her skin, though it doesn’t seem like the creature is intentionally trying to cut through her face.

It keeps sniffing and huffing, too much air being blown into her ear but she’s still unable to move despite the uncomfortable feeling. However, she has this impulse to open her eyes. . . she knows it’s not normal behavior. All she’s seen this creature do is hunt, kill, like a true psychopath made into a nonexistent dinosaur, like spilling blood all over itself and hunting for sport is all it knows how to do.

And suddenly it’s just. . . not doing what its hell knows how broken mind is probably programmed to do, and her unbound curiosity is just begging her to somehow figure out why such a merciless experiment is suddenly calm after chasing them through an entire mansion like its life depended on it.

That same curiosity just shoves every hint of fear away when the Indoraptor rubs its own cheek against hers once, like a little spoiled dog who seeks the attention of its loving owner. Sure the touch of scales that seem as hard as a wall don’t feel as reassuring and even comfortable as the soft fur of a dog or a cat, but it’s undeniably. . . not aggressive. Not at all, and the way it just dropped its hunting instincts and became almost gentle only added to it.

The Indoraptor shifts back again, almost expectantly, and it just waits there. It’s only a couple seconds later that Maisie finally brings herself to open one of her eyes, shift to have a better look at the psychotic creature that’s simply staring at her like it has just solicited her attention instead of seeing her as food it certainly didn’t need.

It lowers its head when it receives eye contact, slightly, and its jaw trembles for a second as it hisses quietly. She knows it’s staring right into her eye, and she doesn’t know why herself, but she opens the other, and slowly straightens, just a little, no sudden moves. She’s still shaking like a leaf in a gale, barely remembering how to breathe properly, but all she can care about are those eyes.

Maroon orbs look at hers, inevitably teary, and for a moment she finds she’s more shocked about the intelligence they basically scream rather than the fact that this bloodthirsty monster is acting like a curious animal, and she almost feels its. . . _confusion_. How some _thing_ that has done nothing but kill thus far can even feel emotions is beyond her, but all that’s left for her is play along. She actually has a chance to live. Perhaps it’s slim, but it’s there, and hell she’s _going_ to take it.

Human and beast stare at each other for more than a few seconds, and it’s only clear that they are both extremely confused, extremely curious after seeing sides of one another they had never seen, and there’s something that fits but that at the same time doesn’t.

The Indoraptor tilts its head again, slowly this time, like it’s trying to get a better look at her. She had never gotten enough time to actually look into those eyes, but now she has, and she has to admit, they are far more expressive than that of any dinosaur’s or reptile’s she has ever seen. She herself doesn’t know what it means exactly, but she’s certain those eyes have personality. They are almost nothing like a human’s, but at the same time so human-like, holding emotions the creature probably doesn’t even know it has.

Maisie wonders if the reptile would think the same about her own eyes. If it would somehow be able to see that humans are actually as smart, or smarter, than it is, if it can somehow appreciate that they are not as different when it comes to thinking things through.

She knows she’s talking about a dinosaur, an experiment, something that’s meant to be used like a machine without feelings, but. . . it’s a nice thought. It _is_ supposed to be a highly intelligent creature, after all.

She still doesn’t know what she’s doing, but she brings one of her hands to let go of the blankets, almost numb, and she just finds herself slowly reaching out for the black scales still too close to her for comfort. The Indoraptor shifts, looks at her hand, and she pulls away for a second because she was certain it was going to bite it off.

It didn’t and doesn’t. It just looks at it like it’s a foreign object, and now she can’t deny that the same dinosaur that has killed who knows how many people is curious.

Swallowing her fear, she tries again. Her curled fingers are still trembling, but the trust only her mind is telling her to grip on to allows her to expose her palm. She knows this isn’t some fairytale, some cartoon. She is not sure that simply touching a wild animal is somehow going to immediately tell it you’re friendly, you’re not a threat, it doesn’t have to kill you. She can’t picture it working on big cats, on an elephant, a rhinoceros. . . but she can picture it working on a killing machine and her mind thinks it’s the right thing to do.

She still doesn’t want to die, so she listens.

Its once menacing eyes are fixated into her palm, but the Indoraptor doesn’t pull away, growl, do anything but quietly emit a barely audible purr as it waits for her to make a move. If it really wanted her dead for whatever reason, it surely wouldn’t stall. It was clear it had interest on what she was doing.

But she stops midway, like her arm is locked in place. She wants to for some reason, but she can’t. She knows this is big – she knows, or at the very least she _thinks_ and _hopes_ she’s actually gaining the trust of a feared monster, unveiling another side to its twisted personality, but she can’t bring herself to touch it. Something is stopping her, and she’s unsure what. Her fear, the foreboding of it being a trap, the ridiculousness of befriending a savage. . . 

She doesn’t, so the Indoraptor does.

Maisie gasps under her breath when the creature’s muzzle presses against her palm, and her eyes are as wide as dining plates and she’s gaping, especially when it purrs again, and this time it’s not like a motor, not low or even distorted; it has a higher pitch to it, and she thinks she’s crazy for thinking it sounds like affection.


End file.
